u/JulianSkies

What's this? A bonus episode? Indeed, here have a bonus chapter set in the SD universe!

The Thawed Directive.

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And so, we finally step in the biggest part of this story. Matchin’s journey as he meets those he once worked with, now decades later in their homeworld, and they work through the many choices they’ve made.

So when faced with a foe that cannot be so easily felled by might, what other tools might be available? And when faced with allies who have long since earned your distrust, how can you make a government you can trust?

In the end, it is time for New Teachings to take place.

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Memory Transcription Subject: Matchin, Sojourning Arxur
Date[standardized human time]: January 7, 2166

“That was certainly not all ages” Kava had been on this ramble for a while now, ever since we’ve stepped out of the movie theater “Not all ages at all.” she shudders “We’re lucky Chi was sleeping all the way through.”

“It wasn’t all that bad, was it?” We’d gone to see a movie as we had a fair bit of time before the appointment. Or, something like an appointment given we were looking for when the Captain had free time.

“Muncher, love, I think you’re doing that thing again” she sighs, patting my arm.

I stop in my tracks, staring at her. Then I think back on the movie, it was… I’d learned a lot these last three decades. Among them was a multitude of movies. I admit I had no expectations for what a romance movie here would be like, and it was admittedly… About as good as the ticket cost implied. But there wasn’t anything strange with it.

But there’s still something strange with you isn’t it?

I sigh, it… It was probably the fight scene between the two suitors. It looked pretty normal to me, but… I suppose even so long living with her haven’t changed some things about me.

She pulls me out of my train of thought with a pull as we arrive where we’d been going. It is… A very unassuming building. It’s a five storey rectangle, made of familiar shiny smooth cement that I hadn’t seen in so long. Pure practicality in architectural form that made me expect to see the Dominion’s flag hanging from it. But instead, there were two flags hanging from the wall. The red and black of the Collective… And a much brighter, green and blue sunburst with yellow spokes of the Irrin Province.

Something felt… Strange to me staring at it. It shouldn’t be. It should be reasonable for the provincial banner to be here too, heavens know on Leirn they’d have even more, almost like they were having a competition of how many subdivisions they could create.

But maybe that’s it. Thinking back on it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a provincial flag on Wriss. I’d seen a sector flag, but only in the ships belonging to that sector- “Oof” Kava physically breaks me out of another thought spiral, now pushing me at the waist.

“No procrastinating. I know you do that.”

I allow myself to get pushed inside and we enter the lobby which was… A lot more sterile than I expected. Simple, neutral colors and little to no decoration aside from some very tame institutional posters and a couple of vibrant plants at the edges of the room, a waiting area and a simple front desk.

“You know, I thought it was a you thing” I look back down at Kava “But is every arxur this edgy?” she mumbles as she pulls out her moonglasses, causing me to get even more mystified “What government building uses red and black?”

There is an almost inaudible little chuckle coming from the woman at the desk “We don’t get many of you here, but all of them say the same.” She’s young, and like many I’d seen around both taller, broader and thicker than other arxur I’m used to. “I promise there’s a good reason, but what brings you here today?” her tone is… Formal. But not the way I’m used to either.

“Okay, hold on” Kava walks up to her “We’ll get to that but I can’t let this just pass by. What good reason?”

“Easier on the eyes for us.” The attendant taps a claw on the desk “Historically, people inherently grasped that but research in the last decade has cemented what was common knowledge into proper color theory science.”

My wife sighs, stepping back “It’s almost like fate was trying very hard with you people. But, uhn… We’re here for Matchin here.”

“Right” I walk forward “I uhn…” The words stop in my throat for a moment. I’m… I’m nervous, but not the same kind of nervous I used to be. I know I’m allowed to do this- Kava pokes me, drawing a chuckle out of me and me out of another internal spiral “I have an appointment, kind of, with Ratzal?”

“Kind of?” The attendant blinks for a moment “Oh, right, the Chief did say a friend was going to show up during her time off.” She goes to do something on her computer before bringing up a small, clear plastic card “Here, verify your ID”

Friend? There is no reason she would call you friend, not after the way you fled the last time.

I pick out my ID card and put it against the plastic card, it only takes a moment before the other card’s surface shifts to show some text with my name and a number under it. She offers Kava another visitor card, getting the same ID update “She’ll be available in fifteen minutes, you’ll be permitted entry then. You can wait here in the lobby.”

We sit down in one of the many waiting couches. I manage to notice the ease with which my tail fits in, so familiar I am with furniture made for smaller species, but more than that I can notice how more than just soft it is. Whatever synthetic material it's made of, because I can’t imagine a natural one that does this, takes in my body’s shape in such a specific way I almost lose grip on the ground before I’m done sitting. “They really don’t save on comfort, do they?” my wife chuckles. I stare back down at her, the light glow of her glasses making her eyes stand out in the penumbra. Then with a sigh I look up, waiting.

But it isn’t long until I hear another, very important, sound that makes me look back down. A tiny little murble, so soft it is almost impossible to hear. I look at her “He wants his papa” she confirms, so I reach my paw down. Gently I reach into her pouch with just one finger, and it doesn’t take long until I can feel Chi’s little paws holding onto me.

I just stay here for a while, until I catch Kava’s ear swinging forward slightly. I turn my attention to the desk for a moment, and I can see the woman there making a sufficiently clear sign we’re clear to go. I try to retrieve my finger “Come now, Chi, papa needs his paw back” I mutter, knowing they will neither hear nor understand it. Still, after a couple seconds he lets go.

Together we make our way towards an elevator, set at the end of a hallway. It’s not a long trip, and the set of buttons in it makes it clear that the visitor cards we have have limited clearance. We’d probably be in the way of anyone trying to use this elevator as long as we’re inside, I imagine, as only one button lights up for the fourth floor.

When the door finally opens up I’m welcomed by… A normal office space? I don’t know what else I was expecting, I’d seen plenty of those before. I’d been to enough of those during my time as a raider, even so… What was I expecting?

Something even more normal? But what would something like that even be?

We walk down the corridor in silence, looking into the rooms we pass by. They’re spacious offices, the walls have windows into them letting me see the ones inside. Seems like they’re on break, at least from how they’re behaving.

In one of them I see a man almost too large for his desk carefully picking some food out of a plastic container. In another, a younger one has propped his legs up on the desk, reclined his chair back and was apparently balancing a holopad on his snout as he watches it. In one more, a young woman appears to be the only one still focusing on work when another man around her age walks around her workstation. I watch as he turns off her monitor and as she stares at him with a scowl he sets down a… Deck of cards? The woman just sighs and reaches into a desk drawer, pulling her own deck of cards.

None of those are who I am looking for, however. But by the end of the corridor and in a room with a great window to the outside is she. I can see the captain from the inner window, so I stop by the door and rap my knuckles at it. The sound is metallic and hollow, unlike what the wooden appearance of the door would indicate. “Come in”.

I make my way inside quietly, and look at the captain. She looks… Different. Very different not just from how she was but- From what I expected. The first thing I notice is how thin she looks. She doesn’t look underfed, I am familiar with the signs of that, but it looks like none of what she ever ate stuck with her. She seems to even have shrunk from back then, her arms look thinner as does her torso and the glasses perched on her face just make her feel even more fragile.

It’s like age got its claws deeper on her than me.

“Captain-”

“Don’t.” Her voice, however, is still just as strong. I almost stand at attention with the command “Call me Ratzal, or Director if you must.” She sighs, then waves at the chairs in front of her desk “Take a seat.”

Once again, I can only move once I feel Kava’s paw on my own. Still, we both walk over and sit down. For a second I feel very tempted to laugh at how my wife almost disappears in the plush seat made for someone twice her size. “Oof. We’re getting wrissan furniture when we get back home, Muncher” she comments “Didn’t know you guys were so good with it, though maybe we can find something my size.”

Her sudden off-topic comment is enough to make me and Ratzal speechless for a moment “Well, we’ve invested more in ergonomics research in the last ten years than the previous three centuries, so there’s that” the cap- Director chuckles. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Kava” she tilts her ears politely. I wonder if Ratzal can recognize the motion? “Not sure how much he said- Actually, I’m sure he didn’t talk to you before. But I’m Matchin’s wife.”

It’s at this point that I see a number of different motions pass through Ratzal’s face. But most of all- Restraint. I’ve seen that expression many a time before, someone doing their best to not say something they’re compelled to. Slowly, she tilts her face to look at me “So you’ve found quite the happy ending, Matchin” she says.

There’s… Nothing in her voice. No, there was something in there, at the very end. But nothing I could recognize- Her line was… Just… Empty. Controlled. It sent a shiver down my spine “Yes” I find myself answering with the same kind of control I used to speak back then, a sufficient shift that makes Kava’s ears tilt to me “I’ve been very fortunate.”

“Someone had to be.” She chuffs, there’s a moment where I can see her take a slow breath before resting back against her chair “I thought you remained on Earth?” Something else had returned to her voice, but I couldn’t tell quite what just yet.

“I…” At the same time I feel more and less tension- A different type? “I didn’t stay long. I… I wound up moving to Leirn.” I look down and away “I… I work in a logistics company those days. Moving boxes and stuff.”

“That… Good work.” Is all she says.

This isn’t the usual quiet. My kind is quiet, we don’t talk much, even the acquaintances I’ve made on Earth and back in the old rebellion were like that. But this feels like there’s something incomplete. Missing. Awkward. “I, uhn… I wanted to know how you’ve been.” I finally ask “I wanted to know how you’ve all been, really. Which is why I took this trip.”

I see her close her eyes for a moment, in thought “A lot of hard work” I feel like there’s something dark in her tone “Do you know how much work it has been, Matchin?”

She puts her arms on the desk, and I feel myself stiffen “Do you have any idea? Do you know how much we had to do to take what the Dominion left and get where we are right now?” She stares at me directly “No, you don’t. Because you weren’t there to do it.” though her voice is low, there’s still a powerful growl behind it.

“Years, I was still a soldier for years just ‘pacifying’ people trying to usurp Isif.” She raises a paw up to her face, taking off her glasses “But that was the easy part, oh it was the easiest part of it.” She’s not looking at me anymore “After all, killing is something we’re all very good at, isn’t it?”

She nearly slams her glasses on the table, though despite the noise they are unharmed “No, no, the hardest part was after I left that life… Study groups, meetings, so much foreign material to learn from-” she starts tapping furiously on the table “Jutonis’ profile system, learning developmental age ranges, memory retention theories, focus patterns” the tapping intensifies “A thousand methods for every species, and an absolute, complete total lack of anything for ours” her voice has raised to a shout at the last word. “Two. Fucking. Thousand. HOURS. Of manual sorting through Chronicle materials for ancient teaching methods.”

She focuses her eyes on me, I see the twitch of her mouth “But do you know the hardest part?” her voice had turned to almost a whisper “There were forty of us” she growls “There. Were. Only. Forty. The entire fucking educational restructuring team was that. I don’t mean the decision-makers, I don’t mean the leadership, I mean every last one was that. And do you know why?!” She stands up “Because you all ran. You all fled like cowards! Because you all left us alone and we had no-fucking-body we could trust!”

Before I can say anything she starts pacing again “We couldn’t trust anybody. Who was it that actually believed we needed to change? So many we had just bought their loyalties with food, or the promise of power. So- So now that we had to change things, that things had to be different, how could we trust them to make things better instead of just-” She waves an arm around “Doing what we always did?!”

“Do… Do you know what we had to do?!” she stops pacing and stares at me “How do you think we even managed to get here?” there’s more than just anger in her voice- There’s desperation. But then her entire body seems to get even more tense, she slowly raises a paw up to her face, and I notice the tears. “Really?” she mutters to herself “This is what it took?”

I remain silent for a while as Ratzal just stares at her tear-stained paw. “I- I can’t know what you had to do but… It worked, right?” I try to offer.

“Did it?” I could see she was crying now, freely “Or did we just make something else just as bad?” her breath had become shallow “Do you know what you have to do when you can’t trust anyone, Matchin?”

I felt my shoulders tense up “No” I was starting to get afraid of the answer.

“You need to make someone you can trust” her voice is a low mutter “That’s what we had to do, what we did, what I did.” She stops in front of her desk, at this point I hear a commotion behind me, but I don’t dare take my focus from her “We had to train them from a young age. Those too young to have become attached to the Dominion, young enough to be impressionable and easy to teach, we had to build up from scratch, mold their minds to a new mindset and train them to take up roles-” She covers her face with her paws “We had almost nobody we could trust. So we had to raise them to their roles. They were young, we had to put them through tutoring, trials, control…” Her voice falters, and I see someone approach from behind us “Heavenly red… The same thing we tried to get away from… We had to do to them to even have a chan-”

Who had approached from behind was that very large man I had seen earlier, while Ratzal has her face covered he walks behind her and holds her. He’s so large he easily eclipses her, setting his chin over her head and pressing his body against hers causing her to lock up “I’ll tell you as many times as you need, mom. You were a good teacher, and a better parent. I promise you.”

I turn around when I notice more noise, and it seems that everyone that was on this floor had suddenly come up. The two that had been playing cards together walk around and set themselves one on each side of Ratzal, before just pressing themselves against her “You did a good job making us want to follow your trail, mom.” The girl says “You took us all from a bad place, and we all wanted to pass that on to the ones that come after.”

“I know you feel like you forced us.” The boy adds “But you never did. Shia didn’t follow, did she? She’s found her own way out there, doing something else.” He chuckles “You know it’d defeat the purpose if you actually had forced us, right?”

The one that had been watching the poorly balanced holopad kneels down in front of them- Just now I realize how short Ratzal was, I don’t remember her being this short “You know, I only had the chance to meet him once. But I’m sure grandfather would have been proud of you.” This causes Ratzal to look up suddenly “And I’m sure he’d have said that if he ever learned how. And I’m happy you managed to teach that to all of us.”

I just watch in silence as the huddle remains for a while before breaking up. The largest of them is the one that speaks after “This is the first I’ve seen you cry.”

“After how often I told you it was fine to do it…” Ratzal chuckles to herself “I just… Never could.” she takes a deep breath, then looks at me again “These-” her words falter, and she takes another breath “Right… These are my children. Akath,” the largest one straightens for a second before bowing slightly “Virth,” the one that had been kneeling stands up to give a respectful bow as well “Lath,” the young man to her side just raises a paw at me “And Keth” the sole young woman does the same motion “My family, my children…” There’s hurt in Ratzal’s voice “And the  young ones I’ve raised to be my staff, and eventual replacements.” Akath puts a paw on her shoulder “This is the Board of Chiefs of the Educational Division of the Irrin Province.”

“Board of…” Kava’s voice makes itself known again “Your entire family?” she’s as confused as I am. “Well- Must be an entire experience working with family like this.”

“You don’t need to trim it.” Ratzal sighs “What could a woman that had to do this know about… Teaching. Educating a new generation?”

“More than she thinks” Virth begins “Few are more dedicated to learning than you are, mom. You know the value of making a kid want to learn in a way that… Honestly, I don’t know anyone else your age understands.”

“He’s right.” Keth continues “You’ve done much good. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t agree with that. Look at the Little Shepherds, the entire Collective loves it.”

“Little Shepherds?” I ask.

“Children’s show.” Ratzal shakes her head “Not… Not great, formulaic, but works. Small group of hatchlings guiding a herd of arlim across the continent for new grazing lands, having various adventures on the way. Focused on teaching teamwork, acceptance of differences-” She sighs “Same pattern of many children’s shows I’ve seen out there, too much of a crush honestly.”

Lath chuckles “With the amount of adult audience it gets, I disagree on that last part” he finally lets go of his mother and takes place somewhere nearby “The twins have proven to be great writers, and you chose the right people to direct it.”

“Children’s show?” Kava asks “We went to watch Across The River today, and it was advertised as a family movie-”

Lath shakes his head “Maaaybe skip season two? I mean… We’re still carnivores, as you know, and they’re shepherds and all.”

“Should have expected it” Kava sighs “I might still look into it- Ah” he squeaks suddenly “Well, since you’ve introduced your children, let me introduce you mine” it only takes a couple of seconds before Chi’s head pops out of her pouch. He’s holding tightly to it, looking up directly at Akath.

I feel something warm as they all just stare in what seems like awe at the little joey, while Chi appears to have equal awe in return as he stares at what is perhaps the largest person he has ever seen. Everyone remains in silence for a while until “aa-agha” Chi raises one of his paws up at Akath, making noise.

The large arxur almost recoils, before vaguely getting his own claw a little closer but still out of Chi’s reach. A kind motion I’d grown very familiar with in time- To realize something so small is there, and be just so incredibly aware of how dangerous your entire presence is. To be afraid of hurting someone by accident- To be aware of the sharpness of your own claws.

It’s good to see someone else like that.

“What’s- uhn- Their name” Akath mentions

I chuckle “This is my son, Chi.”

They all continue to stare in awe- Except for Ratzal. She turns her face at me, her eyes wide and focused, her shoulder suddenly tense “Chi-”

“Chissatri” I interrupt her, I know what she was going to ask “A name of two languages” I look down at the little joey trying very hard to reach the reluctant arxur “First Star, the first you see, before the sun has even finished setting.”

Ratzal’s expression softens just as quickly as it had hardened, then she looks at my son again “Now I’m somehow more surprised you managed to connect the two phonemes this well.”

I watch as Ratzal’s children, coworkers, seem lost over Kava’s- My- child for a while while his mother tries to keep him from toppling over and out of her. I turn to look at Ratzal again “The others- You were the only one I could find. I… I wanted to talk to the others who came back as well, if I could.”

Ratzal sighs… Then looks out a window “What others? Almost… Almost nobody from the old squadron returned. There was me, Ashath, Shaka, Rathel and Ezkal…” She turns to look back at me “They all… They all did the job. Like me- Like me they were charged with training a new generation, in their respective fields.” She looks down at my feet, then back at my eyes “We’re all here in Irrin, keep those you trust together. So…” she sighs “I haven’t seen some of them in years. Sorry, I can’t tell you more about where to find them we just-” She looks back out the window “We had too much to do. I just… See their names on paperwork sometimes, these days.”

“Oi, oi, oi, that’s enough” I look back to see Kava laughing, Chi had managed to climb up into her arms, where he was now struggling to reach Akath from “Stop crowding or I’ll need to have one of you holding him.”

I look back at Ratzal “I have time to look.”

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How strange is it that sometimes the parts you’ve been most eager to write are the hardest. Honestly, I’ve written Ratzal’s crashout from the heart and it has basically been the core of this story, and yet it was so hard to start writing it. And despite having gone through at least eight versions of it in my mind, the one I write down has nothing to do with anything I had planned!

Well, hope you all enjoyed a look into what this educator had to do. Also, props to art_mon_so on Discord (whose reddit name I forgot) for the idea of Little Shepherds. Really helped flesh out the degree of multiple efforts that Ratzal took in the last few decades.

And our dear story continues!

This time I was so excited I didn't read before posting here, so have fun!

Chapter 43 which i kept accidentally typing as 45

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A new story! Inspired by… A lot of stories in this sub, but also, a thought about things that most people don’t consider. A story about someone that often goes by ignored in the creations here, but also about those who have done what is, honestly, a miracle. A story about those who stay.

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Memory Transcription Subject: Ratzal, Arxur Rebellion squadron captain
Date[standardized human time]: April 6, 2137

The wind was blowing.

The wind was blowing and for the first time in my life I could just appreciate the wind on my scales.

The moonrise outside was nothing special. It lacked all the colors and shapes I’d seen in the great works of art, and yet was all the more beautiful for being this real, right now. I just keep staring as I trace a claw across my face.

A line of scars on the left side, I still remember the first time she disciplined me like that. I had been scared of lightning, she’d called me a coward… And made sure to leave a mark.

I pass a thumb on the right side beside my chin, the small cuts had long since been healed but… It was the closest thing to love he knew how to show. Hard enough I could feel, not hard enough to cut deep, though his claws had nicked just so. Then he picked me up, put me on my feet and told me ‘Again’.

“I wonder how different you could have been, dad… If you weren't born when you were…”

With a slow breath I look away, starting to head back towards the camp. It wasn’t much, it wasn’t supposed to be much. It’d been a base of operations when we were helping rescue the humans a few months ago- I’d been surprised, gnashing my teeth against it even, at the time. We were taught all our lives you don’t come back for weaklings, that one must let the cruel claw of evolution cull the weak. And then there we were, disobeying the very tenets that brought our society to where it was, at the orders of a Chief Hunter.

Eventually, as the place was abandoned, it found a different use. A resupply post, easy to slip in undetected, with a great many people willing to pretend they saw nothing. Sneakily pick up supplies for the rebellion here, the most sensitive of them like intelligence reports best carried on physical drives and the technical specifications for, and even a clawful of brave specialists to support, the food printer technology. And then sneak our way across Coalition space unseen to deliver it.

Now, we were to take the very final shipment from here. Perhaps the most important of them all: People.

I was not an idiot. I knew that the war, our war against Betterment, was far from over. I could see it in the faces of the men under me, on the faces of every rebel as we made our deliveries… And on the ‘allies’ we had to make to keep things under control. We’d defeated the man leading the pack, but we hadn’t defeated Betterment yet and now it was the time to actually start to fight it. For that we’d need everyone, every last soul willing to break away from it. And it was time at last to bring them home to fight that war

The small camp was abustle with activity, in fact one of the few truly communal activities for my kind. Our final meal here on Earth, and there were many humans who made a point of making it a feast to remember. For most of us it’d be the first we’d have a happy farewell to someone…

I don’t even bother looking around as I return from my short trip, heading directly to the mess hall. As soon as I arrive I am simply assaulted by the smell, rich and overwhelming it was. I had to stop by the door for a moment to recompose myself, to not pounce on the food counter like a wild animal from the enticing aromas alone. This was a gift I hadn’t realized we sorely needed, not just food as sustenance, but food as joy. It took a while for the humans to learn to stop burning the flesh past the point of edibility, but a couple of talented butchers had been working with them, both teaching and learning, and the smell not just of lightly seared flesh but also that of sweet, sour and spicy sauces that permeated the air were the spoils of their work.

I make my way towards one of the furthest away tables, one specifically set aside for officers. Not like with the open plan there was much distinction as it was, just meant I had a space set aside for me. On the way I got to observe some of the other tables, and I knew each and every one of them had a story of their own.

I pass by a table where a human is eyeing an arxur with worry as she seems to be completely lost in a trance. A set of human headphones barely hanging in there against her head, I can see the woman has started to lose a fight against the tears.

In another table three humans are being boisterously loud, talking and patting and poking the two arxur there who both had seemingly the same reaction, at least on the surface one could see their closed stances and scowling faces. And yet, I knew enough to see the difference between them, though clearly disciplined their tail betrays them, their scowl a little too excessive. At the same time, I could see the gouges on the table the other was carving with their claws, their muscles kept tensing up but they’d surreptitiously look at their partner and relax their shoulders a little bit, only for it to repeat again.

I spot in the corner the most unusual sight in the hall. It seemed at first that there was just a single one of my men there, but I noticed something pink doing a sufficiently good job of hiding themselves behind him. Though their table had no food on it, I still managed to recognize an iftali somehow mingling here, precariously as it may be.

It took everything I had to keep my composure as I made my way towards my table.

There was already someone there waiting for me, Rathel. The man was unassuming for an arxur, just average, average like he put a lot of effort into being average. He was a living testament to all that the rebellion had to do to get where it is right now, to the kinds of… Allies we had to make. Just a year ago, the inquisitor from Betterment would have killed any one of us if we had so much as floated the idea of what we’d done. Now he’s on our side.

I don’t trust it, but he hasn't betrayed anyone yet.

As soon as I sit down he slowly pushes a plate in my direction, a smug baring of his fangs. Somehow, I wasn’t interested in the food, not with his expression. “What now?”

“Nothing” he says with his most diplomatic tone “I just made sure you wouldn’t need to wait in line, is all”

I look down at the plate, impossible to tell what exactly those are. I know very well those slices have been processed beyond recognition, but instead of aiming for nutrition density it was for the objective of flavor. Something they’ve clearly succeeded at, especially combined with whatever this quite acidic sauce is. It’s unfortunate no other arxur, or human, quite enjoys this ‘spiced ham’ as I do. “You know something I don’t.”

“Always” is his smug response “It’ll change nothing anyway, so I’m just going to watch.”

With this bit of dreadful news… I just wait. And observe. It’s good to see my people happy for once. Genuinely so, I’ve come to learn. How easily had the mask broken the moment they were given a chance, when they could just be among people who were understanding? The capacity to trust someone like that, and the capacity to be trusted in turn.

Now we just need to take it home.

The feast wound on for a while, and eventually it was time to make an announcement. “Alright everyone, listen!” At least their discipline still holds, or maybe they’d been waiting for it since I entered. “You all know this is the last trip we’re making, we’re damn near the end of it now. There’s only one last thing to bring back now” I take a deep breath “Ourselves!”

There had been disciplined quiet before, an absence of noise but attention given to something one wishes to hear. Now, it had become truly quiet, tense. “As you are all aware” I continue “In a diplomatic compromise with the rest of the Coalition so that his war doesn’t continue, all of our people have been ordered to return.”

Come on… Is this what he meant?

The silence stretches. Not even we are this quiet, not like this… And then finally someone speaks up, and it is unsurprisingly a human “What? After everything you’ve done they’re just going to send you all away?”

Send away? Do they think this is some kind of punishment?

“No way, the UN wouldn’t just bend over like that to those ex-feds.” Another human had stood up to speak.

Who do they think they are?! Do they think they rule everyone? This is the Collective’s decision, not theirs!

I felt a growl rise out from my throat, but before I could stand one of my men does so beside the human “I don’t care what the leaflickers say, I’m not going back Captain” but the growl chokes out as I hear him say that.

He’d done the unthinkable. What, a scant couple of months ago, would have been utterly unthinkable. He was honest. People like us, I learned, don’t survive without lying every day of their lives. That’s what we’d been fighting for, to have a chance to stop it.

And there he is, finally being honest… In how he doesn’t want to give others the chance he had.

“W-we’ve been fighting for long enough” it was another arxur voice, but I couldn’t see who exactly it was “Didn’t we… We earn something?!” she was indignant.

We haven’t won yet, why-

“Hey, it doesn’t matter what the guys up there say” it was a human voice this time “We can find a way, it’s not like anyone is going to miss a handful of soldiers, right?”

A… A handful… But that’s all we have…

There were starting to build up more voices, more protests. But it wasn’t until I noticed Rathel’s smug expression and cocky tilt of the snout that a growl started to build up again. It kept growing and growing until I finally let it out, a roar with everything my lungs had to give and more than my throat was made for.

“These are orders from Chief Hunter Isif himself!” I stand up “We’re to return to Wriss!” I do more than stand up, driven by rage I step on the chair with one paw and another on the table “We have more to do! We didn’t win yet! We have… We have an entire world and entire- Everything ahead of us!” I scan the crowd, the cowering subordinates, the way the humans were protective of them. “So… Fucking… Fine!” I howl “You want to let go now! Victory in your jaws and you want to just leave it for defeat! FINE THEN! But when you are cowering here and look back home and that nothing has changed you will know you it was your fault! And… And if somehow it did, then you will know you did less than nothing!”

My muscles are shaking, and there’s silence around me “So… So… We’re leaving! Tomorrow at moonrise!” my breathing has become ragged, my voice overstrained “And if you’re not there then!”

Then what? Are you going to chase them down, punish them like so many defectives? Rathel would be good at it. No… No this is what you’re trying to get away from.

“Then-”

Then what, what are you going to do? Cry?

“THEN YOU’LL BE LEFT BEHIND!” I don’t stop to see the effects of my words as I leap out of the table, all four paws on the ground as I sprint back towards the ship.

I barely see what I’d done or where I’d went, but ultimately I’d wound up in my quarters in the ship that’d been our home for the last few months. I can’t… I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. It’d already been a struggle trying to… Understand, name, the things I’d been feeling ever since I…

I jump into the bed, far more comfortable than any I had before. I remember when Marcilia had brought it into the ship, I’d been skeptical if those kinds of… Indulgences would be good for discipline. I realized how much good they did less than a day later, to have those comforts. I just let my body sink into it, burying my nose in the old blanket.

Are you going to cry now? That’s all you can do.

The old blanket had a familiar smell to it. I remember when I finally left my parents’ home I brought it with me. It was warm, they didn’t need it, and it was prudent if I were deployed somewhere cold. It’d been with me since then. It was a good blanket, did its job, it was practical. I didn’t need to trade it.

I didn’t want to trade it. The comforting smell of it, I could accept how important it was now… I… I am allowed to cry now, right? I can? So…

You can’t even do that

I roll out of bed and begin to pace. Walking circles around the room until I see something else. Marcilia was our primary point of contact with the human supply efforts, she was… Something I could call a friend, given how much we’d interacted. She’d even given me gifts. The mattress I knew what it was, it was obvious enough to me it was meant to show us… The faults in our methods. But this thing, this thing was personal, not from her people to mine, but from her to me.

‘A scratching pole. For the scaly cat.’

I don’t see why she found that so hilarious but- “Raagh!” I swipe at the wooden object. My claws catch on the thick rope but the swipe wasn’t strong enough to tear through it. I growl and continue to swipe again and again, I roar and I bite letting all the damned anger in my out…

Memory Transcription Subject: Ratzal, Arxur Rebellion squadron captain
Date[standardized human time]: April 7th, 2137

I just remember having woken up on the floor. I had apparently tired myself to sleep but… At least the adrenalin had died down. I still wasn’t any calmer, but I was in control.

As the sun started to set I waited in front of the loading ramp of our ship. I had already set up the autopilot data, at this point I… Had no hope left. I had to trust that the promised path back home would remain open as they said, because I already expected us to be lacking a pilot.

The first one to arrive was Rathel. He was still just as smug as the last night “I hope you weren’t expecting any better, Captain”

“Was I that foolish to expect different?”

“Of course.” He snaps his jaws lightly “We’re still arxur, aren’t we?” and just proceeds further into the cargo bay. He rests against the wall at the far end, near the door further into the ship. He has his sidearm with him.

The next one to arrive was… Even worse. I had thought Ezkal a pragmatic man, but I clearly had a long way to go in the whole empathy thing because I had misread him in some terrible way. He hadn’t been a direct problem, not to us, I already expected anyone working with a rebellion of all things to be defiant. But he had no care for the outcomes of his actions, and the fact he was being escorted at gunpoint by two humans, arms bound and snout muzzled, meant… Something terrible.

He was basically shoved up the ramp “I really try to have some sympathy for you people” one of the humans says to him “But you’re making that impossible.”

“You’re lucky we’re bringing you in alive, handbag…” The other growls at him.

I just wave him in, Ezkal doesn’t need more commands, just making his way further inside. Though he stops just short of the door inside “Hey, I was just a li- Urk” whatever he was planning to say is interrupted as Rathel drives his elbow into his stomach.

“Shut your bonesucker” I don’t know whether the contempt in his voice is true or not “Rich of me to say this, but you’re lucky if insubordination is all you’ll get. Maybe even treason, we could test out the new punishments on you.” Rathel says with… What I now realize is a very well trained scowl.

You have no idea what Ezkal did, are you curious?

No. I don’t think I am. I’d rather not know.

“Please do not make my job any harder, Rathel” someone else had arrived in the meantime. I was somewhat relieved to see Ashath. The medic at least meant we weren’t leaving behind… Too much. He stops beside Ezkal, looks down at the pained arxur and continues with a flat tone “Stop whining and move, pain’s no excuse.”

I saw both of them vanish past the door, and turned to look outside once again to see… Nothing.

There was nothing for far, far too long. Nobody came for a while, until I saw not one but two people arriving. And one of them was… Not one of our own.

Shaka arrived with someone else beside him, someone I hadn’t expected. It was quite clear she was terrified, even despite her sustained pace and certain steps. The iftali woman with him slows down a step, just enough to hide behind him as they come close to the ramp. It… It was at least a little heartening, to see that one of ours had made some degree of inroad with a herbivore, enough to see them come for goodbyes.

Maybe Ezkal did the opposite. Those humans were threatening to kill him, weren’t they?

What surprised me, however, is that she did not have goodbyes to say. Both of them walked up the ramp, and were making their way straight inside “Shaka” I stop him.

“Yo- Ma’am.” He’s perhaps one of the most calm and collected I’d seen these last days.

“Who is she?” I ask.

“I-I’m…” I’m surprised she had it in her to use her voice “Markesh”

“She will be coming with me” Shaka says, with all the certainty in the universe.

“I…” am flabbergasted, is what I am “Are you certain?” I turn to her “Why? Aren’t you afraid?”

“I-i am” she says, I can see how she still trembles, and keeps Shaka between her and everyone else “B-but you… You could…. You could use someone to listen. A-and maybe some guidance. Sha-shaka thinks so, I agree.”

“She is a priestess of the Consecrated Path” Shaka stares at me, I can see an almost complete stillness to his body. The stillness that comes before a pounce. “She believes she may be helpful in spiritual guidance… I concur.”

I take in a deep, slow breath… This… Wasn’t safe. There was no way this was safe. Not with how… She would be alone. There’d be only Shaka with her. Maybe me, I would have to- We’re not there yet. We’re not ready for this yet.

And we won’t ever be, with how things are going.

“It’s-”

“I will keep her safe.” That was the same intensity in his voice as when he first declared his intent to join the rebellion.

“She’ll be your responsibility” I shouldn’t do this. “I don’t have anyone else I trust to keep her safe.” She’s going to die. She’s going to die the exact same as countless others of her kind.

“Yes” is his only stone-faced answer, before the two of them continue to walk inside.

I took a few deep breaths, and looked back out. Maybe we’d be lucky. Maybe she would be fine, hurt for certain, but fine in the end. Maybe she’d be the big example we all need… So I continued to wait, wait until the time of departure.

Do you really think anyone else will show up? It’s a miracle he did.

But… As the time passes… Nobody comes. Not a single more of my men. Not a single more arxur wants to return ho- Then I see someone approaching.

I remember him, out of all of us he was perhaps the one with least agency in joining. Matchin was a runt of a commoner and meek of spirit, when the ship he was in joined us he had no say in it. He was about as good in the field as the average frontliner starving raider, meaning far below the standards we had set now. He was simply… Too gentle to have been born an arxur. Prey-hearted, if I could use the expression in a positive way.

He stops short of stepping into the ramp, and I look at him. I don’t move, and try not to stare too badly. Even one more soul, please. Someone like him. Some that can teach others how to be like him-

Matchin’s body tenses, he looks down… And then he turns around and sprints out of sight.

I finally exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I can feel my arms suddenly weight a thousand times more as I start heading inside myself. To get ready to make this ship take off with…

A Betterment inquisitor you’re certain is only around because he enjoys watching you fail. A hunter so out of control even the humans wanted him dead. And a hunter so reckless as to bring a herbivore along when he knows what’ll happen to her… Out of over three dozen people, that is all you have.

Memory Transcription Subject: Matchin, Lightspeed Hoppers Logistics employee on leave
Date[standardized human time]: January 4, 2166

The wind blows past.

In one window of the connector bridge and out the other.

It had all suddenly felt very, very real now. Even during the trip it hadn’t felt real, not like this, until I finally felt the winds of Wriss on my face.

I was paralyzed. Paralyzed like I was that day, three decades ago, and it felt like I was about to flee again. Until a small paw reaches up and touches my arm.

“You okay, Muncher?” I look down and to my right, there she is. The rust-brown color of her fur, the certainty of her stance, the strength behind her touch regardless of how soft it is. I feel something constrict in my chest, my mouth runs dry, and the need to flee intensifies. “We should find a spot to rest before we keep going.”

But I can’t move- But looking at her I see… I see that tiny little movement in her front. Just a little bit, little Chi had moved just ever so slightly, readjusting to the movements of his mother. Her- Our- little joey. I feel air in my lungs again, but only just that “Y-yes please.”

Kava basically drags me forward, I can’t process anything around me, anything other than her touch, her smell, as complicated as it all is… She makes me sit down, and I close my eyes. I stay there for a while, and she doesn’t ask.

“I’ve already made a call for a cab” What? When? Did I- “Well, I scheduled it to arrive in twenty minutes.” I hear her paws pat against fabric, and I look to the side. When did she get our luggage? “All set here” she offers me a water bottle.

I look at it. There she was, always this mindful, prepared, under control. “T-thanks…”

I can see the worry in her face, but… We’re here already aren’t we? No going back anymore “Irrin shouldn’t be too far, given the map but…” she looks at me “We’re spending a few days enjoying the city before we go looking for your friends, alright?”

“I…” I sigh “They’re not really friends more like-”

“You toppled a government together” she says chuckling “I think they’re friends of yours.”

---

[First] [Next >]

I wasn’t originally going to add that last little bit, but I didn’t want to mislead anyone about what the actual story was, and how the 2137 bit was setup for the 2166 bit. Still think it works as a good scene transition, no?

But this is a story that is often untold, though since I can’t do longform for the life of me we instead get to look at the aftermath. Of those who decided to stay. Those who, after all they did for their freedom- Stayed on Wriss. Because they had not yet won, because there was a much longer war to fought still.

We know they won, but the question is, at what price? For the Collective, and for themselves, as individuals?

Particular thanks to u/0beseninja, because you were actually a big inspiration.

No promises to consistency, been having a tad of a hard time writing those days.

Once more unto the breach, we continue to follow the story of our defrosted popsicles. Now, we open with Onio!

Chapter 42

Ah, the joyous Ficnapping, where we get to play around with our friends' stories! This one was a bit interesting to do, due to it's nature of a series of seemingly-disconnected works that all follow the same theme.

Arxur Integration Program belongs to u/uktabi and it is a story about arxur getting used to a more 'normal' life away from the precepts of the Dominion as well as showcasing some of their own cultural aspects, and I figured what best form of ficnap than just... Continue with it?

---

There were many aspects to the Integration Program that would take many years to resolve. Aspects that would prove to be invaluable for the Collective to learn about, small things, subtle things taken for granted at its benevolence.

One such pain point was almost laughable in its stereotype: Art. Not its existence, of course. As one renowned arxur actor once said, “To slaughter a human turn of phrase… If there is not enough bread, the circus must be exquisite.”

-*-

The room was larger than it needed to be for the number of participants right now. Or at least larger than the instructor thought it needed to be. But that, Carla thought, was perfectly fine. That was one of the smaller things that was easy to forget and something to always keep in mind when doing activities with the arxur. They needed a fair bit more elbow room than a human, more so than their size dictated. It was really just a comfort thing.

Thankfully, despite this being ostensibly a class on clay sculpting, she had needed to do very little teaching. Her five current ‘students’ were all already pretty skilled artisans themselves, meaning she mostly was there to give support and guide their experience. Something that none of them really thought they needed… But as she stares at one particular woman, it is quite clear that was not true.

Her name was Karth; she didn’t have the usual arxur build. She was shorter, more limber, twitchy in a way, and touchier than others of her kin. Like every other one in this class, she was currently busy shaping clay. Like every other one in this class, she had a lot to say about the quality of the available material, of course; clearly Terran clay had nothing on Wrissan. Carla had let them all ramble about it; it was good to have these kinds of discussions.

At the moment, however, Karth’s frustration was growing steadily. She had begun today’s ‘lesson’ as eager as any other day; she understood the goal of those lessons was less to teach her an art she already mastered and more so to have an environment in which to relax and enjoy the act of creation. And educating those humans on the history and intricacies of the Dominion’s art certainly brought her joy, even if she periodically got frustrated at the humans’ somewhat limited color perception.

Today, she had set herself a goal, a very specific one. What she was making was going to be a gift, a gift to someone very special. Karth knew why she initially defected, a properly selfish reason even- His name was Vesh, her husband. He made his choice, and she did not give him a chance to make one for her. For the first anniversary of that choice, still a couple of months away though, she planned to give him a gift in his likeness. That was, after all, her specialty.

This would not be the final work, of course, but she had set herself to making the best possible first attempt. And now, she was frustrated because the figure was wrong. Making the initial shape was easy, if not a little rote; most of her work had been with statues of people, after all, and the lunging pose was a traditional one. Then came the detailing, the part everyone underestimates. She carefully adjusted every detail and carved every little scale in the surface of the clay, her finely sharpened claws natural tools that surpassed the multiple little objects that other species needed to use to work this material. And yet, it continued to be wrong.

No matter what she tried, his proportions continued to come off as wrong. It was like all her skill and practice had fled her. The torso seemed wrong, the arms were incorrect, there was something she couldn’t place in his snout and it all… Was wrong. Try as she might, nothing seemed to work. So, she decided to put some of the things she had learned here to use- “Rith,” she looks to the other arxur beside her. He just tilts his head slightly to the side to indicate he’d heard her, still focused on his work. “Do you see any flaw on this?”

He stops, blinking. He’s stunned for a second; it was not habit to simply open oneself to criticism like this; after all, any creative knew there was exactly one possible outcome. Back home, nobody gained anything by giving praise. Another creator was just a rival, and any chance to display how their work was inferior to yours was a chance to improve your own situation. “Well…” He stares at the figure, trying to find… Something. He tilts his head right and left, changes his angle to get a better view of it… He could easily have said something else; it’d hardly be the first time he’d lied. “I see no flaws”, he tries to be honest “Any particular worries?”

“I… I don’t know.” Karth looks at her work again. “There’s something wrong, but I can’t seem to place it.”

Rith stares at the figure more intently, searching and analyzing too “Well… The proportions are right, the asymmetry follows the principles of living organisms, the shape follows the classical forms,” he begins. “You haven’t finished the detail work; that much is obvious, but what parts you did finish are extremely detailed, as is your wont. The pose is perfect and flattering, which I imagine is the goal.” He chuffs, “Much as I’d love to give you criticism, I see nothing wrong with it.”

Karth looks at the others in the room; the other three arxur at first. And she gets a very much similar response; they could see no flaws in it. It was a perfect and flattering pose, all the things that her art should be. So she turns to the last ‘student’ in the room, someone she hadn’t paid much mind to at all.

Asth was, also, a sculptor. But despite the fatefully similar naming convention, he wasn’t quite the same type of reptile as she was. The harchen had been obviously silent through it all, though at least he wasn’t painfully fearful; at most tense, really. And in front of him was his own creation, a… Blobby, misshapen thing that Karth could simply not call art. The thing was dominated by a central feature of a vertical slab of clay with a few holes in it. Stuck to it was a… Shape with something vaguely approximating six limbs or something similar, one longer one, four shorter ones, and one that was basically just a small squished oval. All around it were long blobby strands of clay that needed support with metal wires to even remain in place.

“It’s… Pretty good,” the smaller reptile mutters. “It’s incredibly detailed, and it looks very fierce. Honestly I’m surprised you can do so much detailing with your claws alone, and I’m very curious how it's going to look once it’s painted.”

Frustrated, Karth finally looked to who she wanted to look at the least. She did not wish to admit the human instructor might know better than her; thus she just points at the figure while looking at Carla.

There’s a moment of silence before Carla speaks. “By whose standards is it wrong?”

“What?” Karth’s voice is almost offended. “Mine, of course!”

“Then tell me, why is it wrong then?”

“Frustrating mammal…” she growls. “If I knew that- Ugh!”

“Well, think about those standards. Actually think about them, about what it is that you aim for. Don’t just ‘feel them’ like this; analyze them a little closer.”

Karth just stares at her figure again. She was frustrated enough that at this point she was willing to try anything. So she decides to think about what Carla said; make a mental checklist. The shape, the proportions both match. Her goal was to make this a gift in the likeness of its recipient: appearance, pose, the most minute details that made him so special. They are all there, and yet…

“Asth.” She looks back up at Carla as the human turns to the harchen. “What are you trying to do with your sculpture?”

The small herbivore cowers at the attention for a moment, almost hiding behind his creation, before taking a longer breath and answering. “W-well I was just… Thinking? And… I don’t know, I felt inspired, thinking about stuff… I guess. I’m trying to figure out what I’m thinking.”

Karth hisses slightly, but before she can measure the man’s reaction, Carla turns to her. “And you, what are you trying to do with yours?”

“It is a gift for my partner.” Her answer is short and curt.

The human makes a deep noise before nodding. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet. What’s he like?”

“Vesh? He is…” She thinks for a moment. That was a complicated question, one she certainly had an answer for. She wasn’t certain how comfortable she should be with an honest answer. Or maybe that was just old instincts reacting, and she should be. “I’ve never met an arxur more de- different than him.” She turns her gaze up, focusing on her memories. “He’s strong, broad, tall, and independent as an arxur should be,” she says, voice very even.

“And?” Carla probes further.

“He…” Karth remains silent, silent for long enough that every set of eyes has turned to her in curiosity. She knew the rest of the answer, but… There seemed to be no words to describe the concepts in her mind. “Damn it, how do…” She closes her eyes, looking down. “I guess…”

“Back on Wriss…” She had decided that a story would describe it better. “Back on Wriss, different provinces did things differently. Back where I lived, in particular, we ran communal hatcheries.”

“Don’t most lowborn do that, anyway?” Rith asks.

“I guess, but it was everyone there. Mothers would leave their eggs there; nobody wanted the bother of caring for one or a hatchling. Made sure they all had equal education; when one of them was old enough, they’d be handed off to parents best suited to finish raising them. They’d still take care of the hatchlings while the parents were busy, as well.”

Karth ignores the indignant groans from the other arxur. It made sense; they were all nobility who made a point to carefully track their children. “Nobody liked manning the hatcheries, so everyone was forced to. There’d be a schedule; everyone took their turns watching it. I did it a few times myself before I made a name with my art.”

Then she sighs, a fond memory. “Vesh… If anyone asked him, he’d say the bribes were worth the hassle. That wouldn’t be a lie; people were willing to pay a decent cut to have someone else take their place in the schedule, but…” The tip of her tail swings back and forth just slightly. “He’d have done it for free. Just for the chance to watch over the young ones.”

“I remember one time, I was coming by to talk to him about something. One of the parents that left the hatchlings while they worked, officers, I think, had come to drop off theirs. Hatchling was scratched up bad, caught their mother’s claws to the face, don’t remember why.” She chuckles. “I arrived in time to see Vesh put her through a door. Just smashed it off the hinges with her head. ‘A weakling can’t teach strength. Learn to take a hit before you hit someone,’ he said.”

She sighs, “Couldn’t admit he just didn’t like seeing them hurt.” She looks out the window, towards what she could see of the little town they were in. A hidden place, of course, but a tiny little refugee town of their own. She couldn’t see the place from here, but she knew where he was right now. “He always loved the little ones. Works at the hatchery here now… I plan to give him one of his own soon.”

Karth looks back down at the statue she’s made of him… And the feeling of things being wrong just intensifies. Thinking about him just made her think of how worthless her creation was. “He sounds like he’s a wonderful man.” She turns her eyes back towards Carla, then back at the sculpture. “This is meant to capture his likeness, yes?”

“Yes,” and she was failing at it. “But it’s so… Wrong.”

“By your standards?”

“Yes!” Karth growls, “And you’re all useless! I am asking for criticism, and you’re all acting like sycophants instead! Just tell me what is wrong!”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong despite what you want to hear.” Carla walks closer, staring the much larger arxur directly in the eyes. “It’s good.”

“It’s not!”

The human looks down at the sculpture, and the room remains in silence until she finally speaks again. “Well… If it needing to be good is causing you this much distress… Then maybe it shouldn’t be good.”

All of the arxur present stare at the instructor, who just shrugs. “If you’re not enjoying the creation process of good art, then obviously the worst thing this piece of art can be is good.”

“I…” Karth raises her claws at the human, who, to her credit, doesn’t flinch. She flexes her fingers in a grasping motion… Though all assembled knew it would not amount to more than a threat display. An artist’s claws were made for art; that was their place; to use them otherwise would be disgraceful. “How does that make any sense?”

Carla crosses her arms, sighing. “It’s the only sense I can make out of how you’re behaving. Who decides what ‘good’ means here either way?” she shrugs, walking away from Karth’s table.

“It is quite obvious, isn’t it?” Karth stands up, though she doesn’t move from her table. “What, does proportion no longer matter? Should the limbs be all different? Or-”

“Art isn’t the world as it is.” Karth’s rebuttal is interrupted by a very small voice; the man she’d basically forgotten the existence of again, Asth, had spoken. He seemed to be incredibly focused on his own malformed work. “Art is the world as you see it.”

Karth’s distress and anger had risen to a peak; the other arxur chuckling at the harchen’s interruption of her nearly making her consider actually sullying her claws. She looks back at the sculpture she was making, enraged most of all at it. Because it offended her, it was horrible, broken, and a great mistake that brought her shame! It was supposed to be a gift and yet he was… He was… “Wrong…”

It was as if all of her energy had disappeared in an instant. Her body goes completely still, her eyes focus more closely, and her breathing slows down as if she had never felt anger in her life. For a moment, all that exists for her is the statue. I can fix this. Is the only thought in her mind

The next moment she’s back on her seat, her claws wet again, hastily soaking the clay to keep it malleable. She had something in her mind; she had to do something specific. She did not need- No- She did not want to start again. She had to fix it, use what was already there, but change it. But the changes were drastic.

The legs were difficult to fix; only the base shape could be salvaged. She’d need to re-do the musculature shape and was thankful she hadn’t started on the scales yet. But thankfully the new pose was standing at a close enough angle to reduce the workload here.

The arms were a complete loss; they had to be removed. New clay was shaped and added, carefully twisted and molded into a new form, a new pose. Instead of the outstretched strike of a classic pose; they were angled differently, both of them upwards in an L shape, not a pose of triumph but a pose of support. The shape of the muscles was different; instead of the lean and taut shape, the arms were thicker, less defined musculature, almost invisible in fact. Though in her mind’s eye she could see the heavy weight that those arms carried, dangling from them like decorations, laughing in play she could only dream of.

Then came the torso; the detailing work was lost, but that was perfectly fine to her now. She had to fix this. She adds more clay, changing the shape of it. Generally wider, not just at the shoulder but at the core, a little rounder, softer. The proportions were bad, of course, but at this moment she had decided to listen to the instructor. Maybe they should be bad. 

Next up was the face, perhaps the most dangerous part of any work of art. The slightest misstep and it would be horrendous; few things are as familiar to an arxur than the face of kin, and therefore even the slightest mistake can be noticed. But maybe, just maybe, there should be mistakes. She changes the pose, jaws slightly parted, slightly pointing upwards. Then, she works the edges, the details. The snout becomes rounder, the edges of the scales less sharp. Except for the eyes, detailed, focused, and staring intently at something in the distance. In her own mind she could see the rest of the scene: what he stares at with the focus of a hunter on the prowl, something that needs all of his focus, standing where they shouldn’t.

The next details follow soon, though the tail gives her pause. It gives her pause for just a second, however, until she gets to work on it. She is taken by the rhythm, claws carving and molding the clay like nothing else existed around her, and as she looks at the final state of the tail, she can feel a twist in her heart, a good one- Pride. It isn’t quite as good as it should be, too twisty and flexible for an arxur tail, but it has motion, like it was caught mid-movement, like a blend of a half a dozen frames of a video that distorted the image of it. Swinging side to side, amusement, and joy, all in the single distorted form of a tail.

And only then did Karth remember to breathe. She stares wordlessly at the finished work, far more finished than she planned on it being today at all. She looks at it, and the only feeling she has in her heart is pride. She had fixed it, fixed her mistake. She had finally realized why it felt wrong and why nobody seemed to be able to tell her why it was wrong.

Only now did it really look like Vesh. And the only one who knew how he truly looked was her.

“-about” words from one of the other arxur finally reach her ears. “It happens when you get taken by the rhythm; she’ll be back in the flow when she’s done.”

Karth blinks her eyes, which sting a little bit, and looks at the clock on the wall. Her tail thumps once before she starts to laugh. The instructor and others present all look at her, but she just allows herself to continue. The other arxur chuff and chuckle, but their stares are softer than they’d like to admit. “I… I haven’t done that since I was in art school…”

“A hunter’s trance” Rith explains, “To enter the rhythm and let time disappear. As the name says, most often manifests on the hunt…” He sighs. “But I’ve been there with a piece before, too… My best piece, Conquest In White… Haven’t managed to get back there ever since.”

“I…” Karth takes a few more deep breaths. “Yeah… That… That felt good. Sorry for… Holding you all up.”

Carla shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t ever seen an artist in the zone like that before; it was quite a show. Just got a bit worried about you, is all. I don’t mind that we went almost three hours overtime.”

All eyes were on Karth’s sculpture for a while, observing the altered creation. “That’s a different person.” Asth’s voice is the first one to break the silence, commenting on what should be obvious to her.

“I… Did figure out what was wrong.” She mutters in a low tone. Surreptitiously, her eyes flick to the side, at Asth’s own strangely misshapen creation. It hadn’t gotten any more decipherable while she had focused on hers. Her eyes stay on it for a few moments more before Carla claps her hands.

“Alright. I think we’re good to wrap up for today; otherwise it’s going to be tomorrow.” She looks at the reptiles in the room. “Tomorrow, then, to finish it all up? Hopefully we can fire it then.”

“Can’t wait to show you how to make proper paint, then,” Rith comments, earning a sigh from their instructor.

Karth looks back at her sculpture. It was far more finished than she planned, but it obviously still needed work. No masterpiece was done so quickly, no matter what. Tomorrow she would finish it, or maybe the day after, and that isn’t even accounting for the paint. But she had managed to get over the worst hurdle of it.

The world as you see it, huh? She looks to the side at Asth’s strange creation. I can ask tomorrow… Maybe.

---

Who even decides what 'good' means? I'm sure everyone will be able to give me an answer, but it's going to differ won't it? Such a malleably objective concept, so obviously clear and yet a seen differently by different people, and even more so- Seen differently by different cultures.

A little extra bonus, because uktabi isn't just a goddamn amazing writer (also suggest you check out his Intro to Terran Philosophy story), but he's an extremely capable critic and perhaps one of three people I trust to know how to give feedback in this entire fandom. It's not an easy thing, it's a feat that requires more than skill and practice, it's a thing that requires a good nature and this man has it in spades.

Also, a question to y'all: I was extremely deliberate with Asth's sculpture and every description it appears in. What do you think of it?